Hypnotizer
by Lyn Harkeran
Summary: Lyn Harkeran has always been a very centered person, but when a certain God of Mischief enters her life she finds that she doesn't have as much control as she thought. Loki/OC romance, fluff, angst, and humor. With a side of Darcy sass and Jane/Thor.


**Part One: Hypnotizer**

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It was late and the nightclub Lyn Harkeran had entered was jam-packed. Everywhere one looked there were people dancing to the explosive beat that pulsed from the large speakers, and drunken souls making fools of themselves. It was a massive hive of alcohol, light, and sound.

Normally, the young woman in question wasn't comfortable in places such as this, but tonight the writer had made an exception. Because tonight she had every reason to party.

From her place at the bar the reserved young woman could see everything that the club had to offer. From its flashing lights, to its excellent sound-system and wide variety of beverages, it was pure heaven. Well, to any hardcore clubber at least.

Lyn sighed gently as she took another sip from her glass of water, and was about to ask the bartender for another when someone exhaled loudly from somewhere to her right. The writer smiled to herself- for she already knew who it was before she turned to look. In truth she would have liked nothing better than to ignore the person who had huffed in her ear, but it was a sad, universal fact that you couldn't blow off your best friend forever. . . No matter how tempting the idea might have been. So Lyn lifted her chocolate brown eyes to gaze at her friend, giving her, her full attention.

There stood Darcy Lewis stood in all her glory- hands on her hips- with an annoyed frown covering her pretty face. At the somewhat pouty expression, it was obvious what was coming next.

Darcy had been good friends with Lyn for three years now, and as such the two knew most everything about each other. This often times meant that they took turns sticking their noses where it didn't belong, and pushing each other further than most people might consider safe.

At times the friendship was rough, but neither Darcy nor Lyn seemed to mind it too much. Seeing as you both young women had grown accustomed to the routine of it all. But despite this familiarity and comfort, Lyn- the younger of the two- internally cringed at the thought of the coming reprimand.

"Lyn," Darcy said slowly, as she gazed inquiringly at her friend through her stylish glasses. "Why aren't you out dancing with some hot hunk, or getting plastered? Or doing anything _remotely _enjoyable?"

"You know I don't drink, Darcy," Lyn replied with an easy laugh as she downed the last sip of her ice water. "And so far the songs and men aren't doing anything for me."

Darcy lifted her hand to her temple, and muttered something under her breath before she huffed, "Do I seriously have to beat you?"

Lyn frowned and moved to protest, but Darcy kept going.

"Lyn, we came here to have fun! And so far you've done nothing but people-watch and drink water! Freaking _WATER! _And we're at a _bar!" _

The spunky intern took a deep breath- trying to calm herself- before continuing in a softer tone than before.

"Please stop being a wallflower and do something out of character just this once. You promised me you'd at least _try_ to have a good time."

Lyn studied her friend for a long moment, before the guilt finally took hold; for she _had_ agreed to go clubbing with Darcy and participate in something that she normally wouldn't. And the deal wasn't one-sided by any means. There had been benefits for both girls. If Lyn went to the club, Darcy- in return- would indulge in an activity of Lyn's choosing at a later date. It was a special sort of compromise that only two complete opposites could have achieved, and Lewis and Harkeran did it very well indeed. Though in fact, it was very rarely that the two women made such strange deals.

The reason for this lapse in the norm was quite simple: both the young writer and the spunky intern had graduated from college several days prior, and as such, they had agreed that ultimate partying needed to happen.

So here Lyn Harkeran was, stuck in a night club, out of her comfort-zone, wearing an outfit that she usually wouldn't be caught dead in, with an empty glass pressed firmly against her palm.

"Alright, Darcy," she conceded, placing her - now empty- cup down on the counter with a ring of finality. "If it'll make you happy, I'll go dance."

Darcy smiled in satisfaction. "It will make me _very_ happy. If you'll let your inner skank come out, and stop worrying about appearances."

Lyn lifted an eyebrow at the _inner skank_ comment, but before the young writer could say anything to interject Darcy continued.

"Now, I've got to run to the little ladies' room, and when I get back I expect you to be in full bump-and-grind mode."

"Aye-Aye Captain Lewis!" Lyn laughed and mockingly shot her a flamboyant salute. "I shall do my best!"

"Very funny, Mrs. Giggles; now get going!" Darcy called over her shoulder before she disappeared into the designated girl's bathroom, leaving her friend alone.

Lyn watched her go with resignation and mentally chided herself for not being a stronger human being and merely saying no to the deal. Sure, she would have loved to have someone to accompany her to the bookstore or the local diner karaoke night. But now as she looked out into the space of writhing bodies, she wasn't sure that entering the crowded dance floor was worth the trouble.

But she had promised she would _try, _and Lyn always kept her promises. So the wary woman lifted up from her seat, and forced herself to move away from the bar and enter the fray.

After a moment of struggling – the crowded space really was stifling in some places- Lyn officially made it to the dance floor. With focused brown eyes, the writer glanced up at the spinning lights above her, before she smiled, found her rhythm, and began to move. The young woman might not have been keen on nightclubs, but that didn't mean that she couldn't have fun while dancing.

Lyn wasn't familiar with the song that blared around her, but the beat was perfect, and all too soon she was lost to it.

She'd most likely be scolded by Darcy for dancing on her own, but even at the thought of her friend's wrath Lyn couldn't bring herself to care. Now that she was dancing, there was only the awareness of her body letting go, and the lively beat of the song entering into her bloodstream and soul. Nothing else mattered at the moment, and for that, the young lass was glad.

Her hips moved of their own accord, and she swayed back and forth to the tempo with ease. Lyn had never had any real instruction, but she had plenty natural rhythm and it made following the song nothing short of exhilarating.

The song was a remix of sorts, and thus was longer than the usual two to three minutes. Meaning that Lyn didn't realize that she had closed her eyes until the song ended and a new one began. With a slightly unfocused gaze- somewhat due to rabid strobe lights- Lyn Harkeran looked around, taking in the strange colors and large assortment of people with interest. She had always been fond of people watching, and here was quite the place to do so.

Curiously, the woman shifted her newly focused brown gaze around the room. And as she did so, she was met with a pair that stood out from the rest: the most vibrant shade of blue-green that she'd ever seen.

The intensity and beauty of the lovely colored eyes made a shiver run down the length of the writer's spine, silently forcing her body to become even more electric and alive then before.

With her strange and completely unbidden reaction to the eyes, Lyn quickly looked away . . . Then after a second more, she once looked for them; cursing herself for weakness.

Initially, Lyn hadn't meant to stare, but after such an intense reaction the poor thing really couldn't help herself.

From her place across the dance floor, Lyn took in the appearance of the man whose eyes she had met, and visibly gulped. He was absolutely _breathtaking_.

He wore black pants and a green dress shirt which was an added bonus to the writer- seeing as she had always loved a sharp dressed man. He was quite tall and lean, and it was obvious that he had hidden strength from the way his clothes hugged his frame. And to top off the already excellent list of positive traits; his hair was long and as black as a raven's wing. A beautiful black curtain that hung to loosely around his shoulders, framing facial features that were perfectly chiseled and angular.

It seemed that there was a good-looking man on the dance floor after all . . . But Lyn mentally chastised herself; knowing full well that she'd never have the guts to go chat him up. . . Not when there were already several chicks checking him out and so openly flirting with him. So- cutting her loses- the writer turned her back to the handsome creature and once more fought to get lost in the animalistic beat.

As her senses were once more overcome, Lyn swayed with precision, noting the way that the music seemed to reverberate throughout her entire being as her hips sashayed with a purpose of their own. In the back of her preoccupied mind, the writer realized that she actually knew the song, and as the music progressed it began to show in her movements.

Before when she had danced it had been mere child's play. Now as the young woman spun and bounced, she let herself go completely. No more timid hand motions or half-placed steps. Lyn Harkeran was _dancing_, and life was good.

For some time this continued, but then, as Lyn once more swung her shoulders and head, she felt two hands firmly take ahold of her waist. Surprised by such an intimate action, the startled young woman quickly turned to see who had invaded her personal space, and was once more met with stunning blue-green eyes.

It was the Hottie!

Lyn had stopped dancing when he had grabbed her- since it had been unexpected. But after the initial shock disappeared and the handsome stranger drew the writer closer to him and tightened his grip on her waist, Lyn began to dance once more.

Together the two made their way to the center of the dance floor, seeming quite the pair as they began to move as one. The man's hands guided the rhythm of Lyn's hips with the fluid mobility of a master, and the young woman unconsciously leaned back into his chest as he moved her farther across the dance floor.

Lyn knew that she was smiling like an idiot, but she couldn't help it, for her steps weren't her own as she let the stranger led her. Usually the fiery writer liked to be in-charge, but as she danced so perfectly in the strangers' arms, she couldn't bring herself to challenge his unspoken authority. Because she found that she actually didn't mind it. Not when he was so careful and gentle in his leading, and made her feel as if she were floating on air.

Then- just as quickly as it had started- the song ended.

Lyn felt disappointed as she began to pull away- seeing several women nearby who would most likely want a turn dancing with Mr. Handsome- but her retreat was denied when her partner didn't loosen his grip.

"Would you not humor me with a second dance?"

Lyn's legs violently shook and felt like they would melt as she heard him speak for the first time, but being so talented in the arts of bull-shiting, she did a good job of hiding it as she replied.

"I thought that you would prefer to dance with one of the other women that have been making eyes at you."

Lyn spoke calmly and honestly, and didn't know what to expect. And when the handsome devil openly smirked the writer had to admit that she was surprised.

"There should be no fear of that."

"Why," she wondered aloud.

"They bore me."

Lyn automatically did a spit-take; wondering how such a handsome bugger could be bored when all the best looking chicks were drooling over him? Wasn't that what guys usually wanted? And she also was curious as to why he had bothered to dance with _her _at all. If the pretty ones bored him to tears, why choose the strange wallflower who happily danced by herself?

"And I don't?" The question came out of nowhere, and Lyn blushed at how small her voice sounded. Being shy and socially awkward was truly a curse sometimes.

"You seem shocked by my revelation," he teased as he once more began to lead the surprised writer through the crowd.

"Yeah," Lyn admitted. "I am, because I don't understand. . . Why am I not boring you like the others?"

The man turned the young woman around to face him, and flawlessly dropped her into a graceful (on his part, not on hers) dip before giving any answer.

"I have watched you all night, and you haven't disappointed my first impressions of your character. Which is more than can be said for the other mortal women I've danced with this evening."

Lyn felt flattered at his straightforward confession, but also confused and somewhat wary. And with his praise she found that she had even more questions than before. What kind of expectations had she been able to unconsciously live up to? And why had he used the word 'mortal'?

Perhaps he was some kind of science-fiction geek.

The young woman pushed aside her questions so she wouldn't seem distracted.

"Well . . . I suppose it's good to make a decent first impression."

The man smiled, and Lyn was in awe of how straight and white his teeth were.

"Indeed, favorable notions are imperative more often than not. . . Though, I still don't know your overall opinion of _me_ yet, Midgardian."

Lyn smiled at his strange speech patterns again, but let it go. It was almost refreshing; the way he talked like an old period drama cosplayer that had the good sense not to break character even when those around him did. It was dedicated and fluent. . . Nothing like most of the people she talked to.

Well, whatever his reasoning for his difference in speech, the young writer found that she actually _did_ like him. Because even with his physical beauty and wonderful dancing skills put aside, he was charismatic and fun to talk to.

Slowly a blush spread across Lyn's face, as she said began to say so aloud.

"Well, you dance very well," she complimented sincerely. "And you carry on a conversation without any trouble. So my first impression would be ultimately positive."

With fascination Lyn watched in fascination as a radiant smile broke across the stranger's handsome face, before her own lips upturned into a grin. And without a thought, the writer continued to follow his footsteps until he gave her a final spin and brought her to a complete stop. And it was then as they halted, that the young woman realized that they had come to a stop at the edge of the overly-crowded dance floor.

"If I have your favor then I suppose tonight has been worthwhile," he said while taking Lyn's hand in his own and placing a kiss to her knuckles. "And I shall leave you before you come to change your opinion of me. I bid you farewell, mortal. . . Until we meet again."

Lyn was too stunned to respond; so she stared slack-jawed at the man who quickly flashed her one last smirk, before he turned on his heel and made his way back towards the center of the dance floor.

"Bye," she softly called after him when her voice returned to her. But he was already too far away to hear. So with a shake of her head, the writer turned away from the floor and walked back towards the bar where she could see Darcy waiting for her.

With light steps and an unbidden giddiness, Lyn approached Darcy with a dazed smile. "Hey you! How was the bathroom?"

Darcy immediately ignored her friend's attempt at small talk, and openly gawked. "No freakin' way!"

"_No freakin' way,_ what?"

"Do you know who you were just dancing with?"

"No, should I?"

Darcy shook her head in amazement. "You just got hot and heavy with a Norse God! That was Thor's big bad brother! You know: the '_burdened-with-glorious-purpose' _guy?"

Lyn froze.

". . . Say _what_?"

"You just _danced_ with the dude that almost blew New York City off the map!" Darcy said, flailing her arms for emphasis. "Lyn - that was _LOKI_!"

The young woman felt her heart rise in her throat and rapidly turned to look for said Trickster. But upon doing so, she found that he had effectively disappeared without a trace.

After a minute more, Lyn gave up any hope of finding him and let the information truly sink in. She wasn't sure what to think or feel. . . For how many people could say that they had danced with a mythological being while they were visiting a nightclub?

. . . But then, after a moment of true contemplation Lyn's lips upturned into a large, goofy grin.

Crazy, lying, murderous God or not, it was undeniable that this Loki fellow was a fabulous dancer.

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_**A/N: PLEASE READ~** _

Originally this story was a Reader Insert, but since fanfiction doesn't allow Readerx stories I decided to rewrite it as a third-person story. I decided to use myself for the main character, I hope yall don't mind. ^^;

I have written 6 chapters for this total but I'm unsure if I should edit and rewrite them. Would you guys want to read more of this story? If you guys are interested I'll do it.

It was extremely hard to rewrite this but I really wanted to share it. I apologize for any of the typos or grammatical errors (if you see any 'you's instead of 'she's please let me know so I can correct it. hehh hehhh!)

How were Loki and Darcy? In-character? XD Hopefully! lols Please drop me a review and let me know if you'd like to read more!

Love you guys, thanks for reading!

_**~Lyn Harkeran**_


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